This does not localize them very definitely; for the Serapeum cast a very great shadow. The temple, or rather collection of temples, was, by all odds, the most imposing structure in Alexandria. It was built on an elevation, partly artificial, the ascent to which on three sides was by broad flights of steps and successive platforms; while on the north side the ascent began at the harbor and advanced by a grade easy for vehicles to the great Propylon. This was purely Egyptian. To the right and left of it rose walls of red syenite, high and massive enough to be the walls of a city, decorated with many towers, and inclosing the whole levelled summit of the hill with their somewhat irregular lines. Within these, at a little distance, and built of the same, though much finer and carefully wrought, stone, rose the complicate structures of the temple proper. It was a little city by itself. And, towering above all other structures, it seemed to protect Alexandria and defy the seas beyond.
Like most Egyptian structures it was most successful in giving to beholders the ideas of massiveness and vastness. Yet the airiness of the situation, combined with a mingling of the various Hellenic architectures with the Egyptian, seemed to relieve the ponderous pile of any air of heaviness. For Pharaohs and Ptolemies, Mother Isis and her vagrant daughters Doris and Ione and Cora, were all represented in the confused mass of templed structures designed to welcome all the classical creeds.
The most striking features of the temple, to one looking up to it from the street, were, perhaps, an enormous canopy that seemed to overhang the whole pile of buildings and a tower by its side that rose still higher. This tower was the famous observatory where Eratosthenes and Hipparchus had made their observations; and in the spacious halls at its base was deposited the greater part of the then existing Alexandrian library—consisting of some 200,000 works collected by the Ptolemies, together with 300,000 parchments brought from Pergamos by Mark Antony for Cleopatra.
The Serapeum was under Egyptian control, but was greatly revered by devout Greeks and Romans as well as by Egyptians. Each nation regarded the god to whom the temple was dedicated and whose statue of mingled marble and silver and gold was there enshrined, as being the chief of all its gods—the Egyptians calling it Osiris, the Greeks Zeus, and the Romans Jupiter. For some reason, of late years, this statue had been kept in a dark room, and was seldom, if ever, shown to the people at large. They worshipped without the presence of any visible symbol of deity. The priests were numerous and of the highest rank. The chief of all was primate of all Egypt.
To its religious character the Serapeum added that of an institution of learning. Its priests had among their own people the reputation for wisdom which belonged to the ancient Egyptian priesthood among all nations—and not without reason. Their priestly duties being light, they spent much time in studying the sciences and philosophies as then known, and in training young priests to the same. In addition, the more eminent among them taught on certain topics in the Alexandrian School. They were recognized by the Ptolemies, and afterward by the emperors, as in all respects peers of the teachers located at the Museum.
Indeed, among people religiously inclined their standing was altogether superior to that of the secular professors. They were far more sober and practical in their teachings. They more boldly recognized religion and taught on lines parallel with it. They had stricter notions of what could properly be called science and philosophy. A few facts blown up into prettily colored bubbles, and then tossed into the air on exhibition, and then collapsing, and then succeeded by another output of pretty emptinesses, and this by another, and so on—such were the substance and history of the better part of the ever-changing teaching of the Museum. The worse part had no foundation in facts at all. In fact, facts were scorned. They were vulgar. The lofty name of wisdom should be given only to great general intuitions and the logical deductions from them. And as the teachers were by no means careful in either their premises or their processes, their conclusions were apt to be worthless when they were not pernicious. In short, the Museum was the child of Athens and the mother of Germany.
Accordingly, many of the noblest families in the neighboring countries turned their faces toward the Serapeum. They were disgusted at the laborious trifling. They were alarmed at the decay of faith. If their sons could not have something that deserved to be called knowledge, and knowledge without impiety and all the terrors, they did not want them to have it at all. But if they could have it thoroughly leavened with religious ideas—why, they would welcome it, be very glad of it, pour out for it their shekels or sestertii or staters freely. Such people found what they wanted in the priest-teachers of the Serapeum; and said to themselves that if religion is the supreme wisdom then are the ministers of religion the supreme professors.
All this Cimon recalled and spoke of when he found himself in the neighborhood of the temple. And he proposed that Aleph should matriculate there instead of at the Museum—as being the nearer and more conservative branch of the University, as well as more remote from the Roman headquarters.
“I do not think,” said he, “that you will need to confine yourself very closely to the routine of lectures. Many of the more advanced students do not. You are already familiar through me with the main subjects discussed in both the Athenian and Alexandrian Schools: and I do not imagine that you will hear much that is new; only you will hear the old said in a new way, with new illustrations and personal modifications, which is not without its advantage to a young man. And you will have what, perhaps, is a still greater advantage, that of mingling with and studying the leading young men of the West. As to the present preliminaries for admission to the School, you had better apply to Seti for information.”
“And why not ask his advice, also,” said Aleph, “as to how you had better proceed in the affair of Malus? It would be a safe thing to do. The priest is not in love with the trader.”